


Dudley Distracted

by MaxWrite



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Crossdressing, Homophobia, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-25
Updated: 2009-06-25
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:47:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/189985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaxWrite/pseuds/MaxWrite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ever since the summer of the Dementor attack, Dudley's been acting strangely towards Harry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dudley Distracted

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [HP Porn in the Sun](http://hp_porninthesun.livejournal.com) '09.

"I don't get it, Harry."

"Mm-hm."

"That joke about the eight ogres that walk into a bar? That's killer!"

"Some of your best work."

"I know! So, what's wrong with Mandy's sense of humour, then, eh? I was using my best material, and what does she give me? _Nothing_. I just don't get it."

It was early afternoon, and Harry was doing what he normally did since Dumbledore's funeral, which was stand around near windows and stare unseeingly outside. Today, he was doing this while talking on the telephone with Ron, who had gone to the trouble of using a Muggle telephone in order to be able to do what he normally did, which was complain.

"Maybe you ought to ask Hermione," said Harry absently. "She understands girls better than we do."

"She'd just tell me to be nicer or something."

Harry bit his lip. He thought perhaps Ron could stand to be a bit nicer to Mandy, but he wasn't about to say so.

"You know, your silences say a lot, mate," said Ron.

"Well," Harry began awkwardly. "It's just that girls are a bit weird, Ron. They don't normally go in for the things that make us laugh."

Ron sighed. "You didn't have to try this hard with Cho."

Harry frowned. "The hell I didn't!"

"Well, things definitely turned to shite near the end, but she was really into you at first."

"Well, not everyone can be me, Ron," said Harry flatly.

"Glad to see your sense of humour's back."

"Defence mechanism."

"I see. So, how long do you have to stay at the Dursleys?"

"Shouldn't be too much longer. Why?"

"Because I hate using this sodding thing to talk to you. Owls take too long and even if your fireplace was connected to the Floo Network, you'd be a right git to use it, what with every Death Eater alive looking for you." Ron exhaled heavily. "You need to get your arse down here before I lose my bloody mind."

"Why, so I can listen to you whinge some more?" Harry asked with a smile.

"I'm not whinging. I'm bouncing ideas off you."

"When do _my_ ideas get bounced, then?"

"Why, what's on your mind?"

"Dudley. He keeps leaving weird things outside my bedroom door."

"Such as?"

"Cups of tea and pastries and things. If that's his idea of a neat trap, it needs work."

"Maybe he's possessed or something," Ron suggested, sounding interested now. "Think maybe the Death Eaters got to him?"

Harry snorted. "If Dudley's their secret weapon, then I think we can all relax. No, he's not possessed. He hasn't been acting that differently, he's still irritating, still stupid..." Harry trailed off as he heard someone approaching the kitchen. The footsteps were too heavy to be Aunt Petunia's, and Uncle Vernon was at work. Harry whispered into the receiver, "Incoming. I've gotta go."

"Right. See you, Harry."

"Cheers."

Harry hung up the phone and looked toward the kitchen doorway. A moment later Dudley trudged in looking sour and went straight for the fridge.

"Who was that, your boyfriend?" he asked.

"What was that?" asked Harry, turning his ear more toward Dudley. "Sorry, I don't speak pig."

A low rumble issued from Dudley's throat and his lip curled menacingly as he glared at Harry. "Think you're so smart. You're just lucky I'm not allowed to put my hands on you anymore."

"I'll say," said Harry as he headed out of the kitchen. "Dunno where they've been, do I?"

Harry didn't need to glance back at Dudley to know Dudley was snarling at him; he could hear the low rumbly noise as he walked out.

 

* * *

"He just... he's just... ARGH!" Dudley yelled as he paced around Piers Polkiss's bedroom, clenching and unclenching his fists.

"Why don't you just ignore him?" asked Piers boredly. He was lounging on his bed flipping through a magazine. "Or better yet, pound his face in."

"I can't! The parents won't let me touch him anymore."

"Since when do you listen to them?"

Dudley stopped pacing and glared at Piers. "What are you saying?"

The subtle change in Dudley's tone caught Piers's attention. He raised his eyes from his magazine and sat straight up. "Er, nothing, D-man."

"You saying you think I'm a wimp?"

"No, no, course not. I just thought... since you're so tough and everything, you know, that you should be able to just do what you want." Piers frowned and shook his head. "They just don't get you, mate. None of 'em do."

After a moment's thought, Dudley decided Piers had a good point and he continued pacing around the room.

"Yeah, you're right. Especially Harry! Thinks he's so damn smart."

"Yeah, yeah, he does."

"What I would do to him..."

"You'd annihilate him, you would."

"Yeah, I'd... Oi!" Dudley was frowning at Piers again. Piers had gone back to reading his magazine, but quickly looked at Dudley again when Dudley yelled. "Are you paying attention?"

"Course I am. Just doing a bit of, er, light reading." Piers shut the magazine and slipped it underneath his pillow.

"Give it here. What is it?" Dudley demanded as he approached the bed. He plunked himself down on it, shoved Piers aside and reached under the pillow. He pulled out the magazine and saw, on the cover, a slim, well-endowed, bikini-clad young woman draped across the hood of a sports car.

"I was paying attention, mate," said Piers, scooting over next to Dudley. "Swear I was."

"Nah, it's all right," said Dudley distractedly as he flipped through the magazine. More scantily-clad women lying on cars graced its pages. "This is new, isn't it? Where'd you get it?"

"Paul. Nicked it from his room."

That's what Dudley had figured, as Piers normally borrowed his older brother's wank mags. He shifted a bit as his body took notice of the material he was looking at. He glanced furtively at Piers, wondering if he was in a similar situation.

"Hey, Piers," Dudley mumbled. "Remember when we used to... you know. Do that thing together?"

"What thing?"

"Well, not together. But like... just... in the same room with each other. Remember?"

Piers's pointed face scrunched up in a frown, but soon his features relaxed at he caught on. "Ohhhh, you mean the... the thing. Er... yeah. I remember. Why? Did you want to...?"

"Nah!" said Dudley hastily, shutting the magazine, putting it aside and not quite looking at Piers. "I mean, I just thought since you'd been looking at that mag, you might want to. I was asking 'cause I thought you'd be too embarrassed to ask yourself."

"Nah, nah, I wasn't going to... I mean... I will if you want."

"Well, I will if _you_ want."

The two of them looked sheepishly at each other. Dudley saw Piers's Adam's Apple bob in his scrawny neck as he swallowed hard.

"I'll lock the door," said Piers. He got up and hurried away to lock his door. He then went to his dresser and retrieved a box of tissues and a bottle of hand lotion from one of the drawers, and then came back to the bed. He sat on the opposite side from Dudley, who'd gotten more comfortable, bringing his legs up onto the bed.

"You can choose," said Piers, his voice quiet and a little shaky.

Dudley began flipping through the magazine again, looking for just the right girl. At first glance, most of them looked as though they'd have done just fine, but upon further inspection there were always serious problems; this one's breasts looked hard and unnatural, that one's face looked a bit like that of a ferret with a bad nose job. Dudley was certain he'd never been this picky before.

And then there she was. Slender and perfectly proportioned, not too big on top, not too small either, long, glossy black hair with a bit of a wave to it that made it seem a little wild and untameable. She stared right at Dudley with her huge, green eyes, her pink lips pouting and smiling at the same time. She was wearing a crimson string bikini and was leaning back against the car she'd been paired with, arching her back and thrusting her chest forward. Her nipples were straining against the fabric of her triangle top.

"This one," Dudley said, laying the magazine down in between him and Piers. He didn't take his eyes off the model as he reached over and grabbed the lotion away from Piers. He pumped some out into his palm and tossed it back.

"Yeah?" said Piers, scrutinising the model. "What about that blonde with the huge –"

"This one!" Dudley repeated, glaring at Piers.

"Okay, okay."

Dudley looked back down at the magazine and tried to forget Piers was there. He pushed his shorts down a bit, took out his cock and started stroking.

The room was completely silent except for the slippery-wet sounds of fists working flesh, and it was soon joined by the sounds of ragged breathing. Dudley finally looked away from the magazine, put his head back against the headboard and shut his eyes. He was well into his own fantasy now.

 _The dark-haired, green-eyed model crawled toward him, slowly licking her lips with the very tip of her tongue. Her breasts jiggled tantalisingly as she crawled. She straddled him, tossed her hair, untied her triangle top at the neck and then let the strings fall._

 _"Do you like me?" she whispered._

 _"You're gorgeous, love," Dudley replied in an unnaturally deep voice._

 _"Then touch me."_

 _She took one of his hands, held the index finger and brought it to her breast where she gently rubbed the fingertip against her hard, pink nipple._

Dudley stroked himself a little more slowly. He was about as ready to come as he could be without actually coming and he wanted to slow himself down a bit. He glanced surreptitiously at Piers to check his progress. Dudley had to come after Piers did. Something in him wouldn't ever let him be the first to come.

It looked like Dudley wouldn't have to worry; Piers had also put his head back and shut his eyes, and he was panting hard as his bony fingers flew over the surface of his long, thin prick. His dark brown fringe hung in his eyes and his mouth hung open slightly. Dudley could see that his teeth were clenched.

Piers reached out blinding for the tissues, yanked a few out of the box and brought them to his cock just in time to catch the pearly-white liquid as it began to spurt out. Dudley looked away, shut his eyes again and went back at his fantasy woman, who was waiting patiently, perched on his lap, tits offered up for him to play with. One little shift, and she was impaled on his cock.

 _Dudley hooked an arm around her waist, pulled her closer and took a nipple into his mouth._

 _"Ohh, Big D, that feels soooo good," she purred. He gave her nipple one final lick and then looked up at her. In an instant, everything changed._

 _The hair was still black and the gaze was still smouldering hot and bright green. The nipples were just as pink, just as hard, and, to Dudley's confusion, just as inviting; the luscious breasts were gone, replaced by a perfectly flat, male chest._

 _Harry draped his arms about Dudley's shoulders and leaned close. He rocked his hips, gently fucking himself on Dudley's prick, and he whispered against Dudley's mouth, "Come for me, Big D. Shoot your load deep inside me."_

Dudley tried to bring the model back, but she wouldn't come, and with a sharp stab of shock, Dudley realised that she wasn't coming back because he sort of didn't want her to. He tried not to panic. It was only a fantasy, he told himself. He thought about all kinds of ridiculous things when he was about to come. This meant nothing. It wasn't _really_ Harry. No, of course not.

Dudley forced himself to relax. He reached over for some tissues and his hand bumped against something that was definitely not tissues. He opened his eyes and looked over at Piers. Piers was looking at him, eyes wide and filled with trepidation. Dudley looked down at his hand; it was nudged up against Piers's hand, which had, apparently, also reached for more tissues at the exact same moment.

"Shit!" Dudley cursed, yanking his hand back and putting himself back inside his shorts. Harry dissolved in a puff of smoke. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"Nothing!" Piers said as he, too, hastily put himself away. "I didn't see... I didn't know!"

"Christ, Polkiss!" Dudley grabbed some tissues and wiped his hands as he jumped up from the bed. Piers stood up as well.

"I didn't do it on purpose, I swear!"

"Shut it!" Dudley yelled, pointing at him. "Just shut up! Is that why you wanted to do this? So you could make a move on me?"

"Are you mental?" Piers cried indignantly. "You're the one who brought it up!"

"Don't turn this around on me, you pervert!"

"Shh! My mum's gonna hear you!"

"I don't care!" Dudley's face was turning bright red as his anger grew. "Is this why you always used to love doing this so much? So you could watch me when I wasn't looking?"

"I was not!"

"Bet you were!"

"SHUT UP!" Piers suddenly bellowed, taking several steps toward Dudley with a look of such unbridled fury in his blue eyes, that Dudley actually took a step back.

"You stop it right now!" Piers continued, stepping even closer. "That was an _accident_ and you know it! Maybe if your hand wasn't so bloody fat, it wouldn't have happened!"

Dudley gaped at him. Piers had never spoken to him like this before. "What did you say to me?" he asked in a soft, squeaky voice.

"You heard me! You're too fucking fat! Your big, chunky hand got in the way because it's so fucking huge! You PIG!"

There was such anger behind that final word that Piers actually spat on Dudley's face a little bit as he said it. Dudley flinched and stared in disbelief at Piers as though he'd never seen Piers before. Piers stood there breathing hard and glaring at Dudley, his fists balled up tight at the ends of his long, skinny arms. He tossed his head to get his fringe out of his eyes, which blazed blue-hot, and Dudley was strongly reminded of the magazine model, which, in turn, strongly reminded him of Harry. Dudley shook his head to clear the distracting images away.

"Well?" Piers finally asked, his voice a bit quieter now, but still tinged with anger.

"Well, what?" asked Dudley.

"Aren't you going to... hit me or something?"

"I should, shouldn't I?"

"Normally would, yeah," said Piers much more calmly, wiping sweat from his brow.

For a moment, the two of them just stood there, not looking at each other. Dudley's mind was racing.

"What did you call me?" he finally asked.

"Er... you want me to repeat it?" asked Piers, looking like his old self once again, eyeing Dudley warily as though he expected to be punched any second.

"Yeah, I want you to repeat it."

"What for?"

" _Because_. Just say it!"

Piers gulped. He took a small step backwards, opened his mouth and mumbled, "Pig."

Sparks of recognition went off in Dudley's brain. His erection, which he would've expected to have gone away after he'd accidentally caressed Piers's hand, twitched in his pants.

"Are you going to beat me up now? 'Cause my dad'll be home any minute."

"No, he won't," Dudley said irritably, waving a hand at him.

"Well, my mother's just downstairs, so –"

"Shut _up_ , Piers, I'm not going to beat you up." Dudley stood there, still confused, looking around the room. "I... I've got to go." He headed for the door.

"What's the matter with you?"

"Nothing! Just... I'll talk to you later!" Dudley unlocked and opened the bedroom door and hurried out. He didn't look back.

 

* * *

"So, I'm back on this thing, then, am I?" said Ron on the other end of the phone.

"Just a few more days, Ron. I'm sure you'll live."

Harry glanced around to make sure he was alone. It was early the next morning and he didn't think anyone was awake yet.

"Remember when I said that Dudley wasn't acting any differently, apart from the weird little gifts at my door?"

"Yeah."

"Well, scratch that. Yesterday afternoon, he came storming in here, pointed at me on the way up to his room and yelled, 'You stay out of my head!' and then he went straight up without even so much as _looking_ at the kitchen."

"'Stay out of my head?' What the hell does that mean?"

"No idea. But didn't you hear what I said, Ron? He went up to his room without stopping at the kitchen. The _kitchen_. That's his favourite room!"

"So, he's lost his appetite. That could be a lot of things. Maybe he's sick."

"I'll say! The boy's gone mental! I ran into him in the upstairs hall last night and he said, 'I don't know what you're playing at, but stop it right now!'"

"Why, what're you playing at?"

"I don't know! I didn't know what he was talking about!" Harry scowled and hugged his torso with his free arm. "And this morning, another cup of tea at my door. Nearly cut my foot on this one."

"Well, think back. When did he start acting weird?"

"Recently, far as I know." But then Harry stopped and reconsidered. "Well... he has been acting a bit weird since I got back from school after fifth year, actually. Not quite looking me in the eye, watching me all suspiciously."

"Well, what'd you do to him?"

"Nothing! It's been business as usual with us; the insults and the threats. The only strange thing that happened was that Dementor attack that I saved us both from, and he was terrified of me after that."

"Maybe that's it," said Ron with a mouthful of something. "Maybe he still doesn't get that you saved his useless arse that day, maybe he still thinks you were trying to scare him."

"Oh come on! Even Dudley can't be that dense."

Ron swallowed and asked, "This the same bloke who throws his things out his window when he's unhappy with them?"

Harry considered. "You may have a point there."

"Mm."

"Well, he's an idiot. I've explained to him over and over what happened that day. If he doesn't get it by now, he never will."

"He's got it in for you, mate. Always has. Now, about Mandy –"

"This again?"

"Just listen. What if I stuck a 'hex me' sign on her back without her knowing? Pretty good, right?"

Harry rubbed at the bridge of his nose and tried not to laugh. "Ron. Listen to me very carefully: do not do that."

"She'll see that I'm playful, yeah? Full of spontaneity."

"She'll see you're full of something."

 

* * *

Dudley wasn't sleeping very well. His dreams were filled with Harry in a crimson string bikini, draped over the hood of a sports car. This was definitely Harry, not the model from the magazine; there were no breasts, and when he spread his legs, the red material of his bikini bottom was clearly filled with boy parts. _Very_ filled with boy parts. He'd take his glasses off with a flourish, tossing his head and making his fringe sweep to the side, and he'd look at Dudley with a burning hot gaze and whisper, _"Come touch me."_

Dudley would awake with a sticky mess in his pyjamas.

Sometimes Dudley dreamt about the day the what-ya-call-'ems attacked him and Harry. They came swooping down from the dark sky, descending upon Dudley, sucking all the warmth and happiness from inside him. And then there was Harry, charging toward them, wand extended, face contorted with rage, yelling words Dudley didn't understand. Silver-white light shot out of the end of Harry's wand in long, thin strings that exploded on contact with the what-ya-call-'ems, blasting them back, sending them away.

And Dudley would awake with a sticky mess in his pyjamas.

Once, Dudley dreamt of that last afternoon he'd spent with Piers, of the two of them wanking side-by-side. When Dudley looked over at Piers, his hair was black and he was wearing glasses and when he opened his eyes, they weren't blue, but rather bright emerald-green.

Dudley awoke from that dream and promptly created a sticky mess in a wad of tissues.

When he finally emerged from his room the morning after he'd had that dream, Harry emerged from his at the very same time. Harry was wearing red boxers and nothing else.

"What're you looking at?" Harry grumbled, squinting sleepily at Dudley on his way to the bathroom.

Dudley didn't say a word. He spun around, scurried back into his room and shut the door. He put his back to the door and stood there, heart pounding, listening hard to hear when Harry went into the bathroom. He couldn't leave his room until he was absolutely certain Harry was no longer in the hallway. He heard nothing.

And then there was a knock at the door.

"Dudley?" Harry called.

Dudley froze and stopped breathing.

"You're being weird, you know. Even for you."

There were several more seconds of incessant knocking, and finally Dudley turned and yanked the door open.

"What?" he demanded aggressively.

Harry stood casually in the doorway and peered curiously past Dudley's head and into his room. "What's up with you, lately? Isn't being stuck in this house together all bleeding summer tedious enough without all this added weirdness?"

"What're you on about? There's no added weirdness."

"Oh, I beg to differ... What're you looking at?"

"Nothing!" Dudley said, quickly averting his eyes from the dark trail of hair leading down into Harry's boxers. "Nothing! Shut up! GO AWAY!" At that, Dudley slammed the door in Harry's face.

"Are you cheating on me, Dudders?" Harry called, taunting. "Is that what this is about? Been making someone else's life miserable behind my back?"

"GET LOST!"

There was silence after that. Dudley thought he could hear Harry walking away. He waited and finally heard the bathroom door close.

Dudley rushed out and down the hall to the master bedroom to quickly wash up in his parents' bathroom. He left the house without breakfast.

 

* * *

"Just hex him," said Ron.

"I can't just hex him. I have to live here, remember?"

"Only for the next few days or so. Then you're outta there and you're never looking back."

"Speaking of being out of the house, Dudley's been spending more and more time away lately and he's been having all these hushed phone conversations."

"Kinda like this?"

"Yeah, but _suspicious_."

"Ah. Different."

"And yesterday he came home with a shopping bag from the local flower shop."

"Maybe he bought you a present," said Ron. Harry could hear the smile in his voice.

"Come on, Ron, be serious. Now, why would Dudley be buying anything from a flower shop?"

"No, wait, I think I'm onto something here. Maybe he has a crush on someone. Think about it; the flowers, the hushed conversations, the loss of appetite, the secretiveness."

"You think Dudley's got a bird?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Could happen."

"No. No, it couldn't. That's ridiculous."

"Well, that's my guess. What've you got?"

"Having a girlfriend wouldn't make him _more_ irritable, would it?"

"Dunno, mate. You were pretty touchy during that whole Cho Debacle."

"Well, yes, but that wasn't because of her... Well, not at first."

"Maybe whoever he likes doesn't like him. That'd put him in a mood."

"Yeah, I suppose." Harry thought back to his encounter with Dudley that morning. "He looked at me funny. He looked at my... stomach... area."

"What?"

"It was this morning, I was only wearing boxers, and he was looking at me funny."

"See? I told you." Ron was grinning again. "Those flowers are for you, mate."

"No, no, listen. Maybe..." Harry gasped. "Oh, my god, Ron. I think Dudley's... er..."

"You think he's what?"

"I think he might be... well... maybe his supposed bird... isn't a bird. And don't say it's me again," Harry warned.

Ron cleared his throat and said in a low voice, "So, er, you think he might seriously really be... 'Cause you know I was mostly joking about him liking you."

"Well, I was thinking maybe his best mate, Piers... 'cause he came back from Piers's house the other day all angry and he's been a right mental case ever since and then I catch him checking out my... area."

"And you think that's evidence that he likes _Piers_?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Thought you said you were joking about him liking me."

"Said I was _mostly_ joking. And it's still pretty funny. I'm not ready to give it up just yet."

Harry gritted his teeth. "Let's just change the subject, yeah?"

"Okay. So, I Flooed Mandy yesterday."

"What'd you do to her this time, Ron? Call her names? Throw things at her? Reach into the fire, pull her hair and run away?"

Ron didn't respond.

"Ron?"

"I... I tried to talk to her," Ron mumbled. "I really did, but then I ran out of things to say and she was just staring at me, so I... pulledherhairandranaway."

"What's that, now?"

Ron sighed heavily. "I _said_ I pulled her hair and ran away, okay?"

Harry's jaw dropped. "I was joking when I suggested that!"

Just then, Dudley went rushing by the kitchen on his way to the front door, and he was carrying something.

"He just went by," Harry whispered. "He's on his way out. And he's carrying the flower shop bag."

"Maybe you ought to follow him."

"I can't, it's too dangerous. I've got a target on my head, remember?"

"You think they'd come after you in the middle of a Muggle town?"

"I think they'd do a lot of things," Harry said darkly. "Okay, I've got to go. Talk to you later." He hung up before Ron could say goodbye, waited until the front door opened and closed, and then he hurried upstairs and slipped into Dudley's bedroom.

It was the largest bedroom, apart from the master, and it was packed with things, most of which Harry was sure would've been covered in a fine layer of dust if not for Aunt Petunia's diligently obsessive-compulsive cleaning. Video games, DVDs and CDs were stacked up high like a miniature city of skyscrapers, trading cards and comic books littered the carpet so badly that Harry nearly slipped. There were clothes that Harry was sure were clean piled waist-high in a corner; he could even see tags still on a few of the items. The only neat thing in the room was the bed, which was perfectly made. Aunt Petunia's doing, no doubt. Harry knew the room had been expertly cleaned that morning and had somehow found itself back in this frightening state moments after Dudley had been allowed back in.

Harry walked carefully across the floor toward Dudley's bedside table. If Dudley was hiding anything, it would probably be in there. Harry sat on the bed, opened the drawer and peered inside. The drawer was filled with all kinds of things, but Harry didn't have to go digging to find something interesting. There was a small shopping bag sitting right on top.

Harry picked it up and examined it. It was a fancy paper bag with a rope handle and golden, cursive writing on its front. Harry had never seen a bag from this particular shop before. In fact, he didn't even recognise the store's name. He reached inside and found a receipt. As he looked at it, his mouth fell open and then curled into a smile.

 

* * *

Looking back on it now, the conversation Dudley had had with Piers about doing this together seemed completely unreal. How had Dudley even asked? How had he gotten the words out? And despite all of Dudley's tough talk, surely Piers wouldn't be doing this if he didn't want to. Surely. Dudley didn't know what disturbed him more, the idea that Piers had been pressured into this or the idea that he really wanted to do it.

Piers came back into his bedroom and shut and locked his door. He didn't look directly at Dudley as he approached the bed. Dudley, who was sitting on the bed, sat up a bit straighter and watched him uncertainly.

"How does it feel?" Dudley asked.

"Weird," said Piers, still not looking at him.

Dudley swallowed hard and wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. "We're really doing this, right?"

"Yeah, yeah, we're doing it," mumbled Piers, fidgeting where he stood. "Remember the rules?"

"Course I remember them," said Dudley sharply. "No kissing."

"No. That would be gay."

"And no... oral... anything."

"That would be _seriously_ gay."

"And no noises of any kind."

"Nope, definitely not."

"And we never speak of this again," Dudley said, pointing a finger at him. "To anyone."

Piers frowned at him. "You think I'm going to tell anyone about _this_?" He pushed down a corner of his jeans waistband with his thumb revealing a portion of the lacy, red knickers he wore underneath. Dudley stared and gulped again.

"So, er," stammered Dudley, "you got them on okay, then, eh?"

"Course I did, it's not rocket science," snapped Piers.

"The top too?"

Piers squirmed and pulled at the bra underneath his shirt. "Yeah. Do you... wanna see?"

Dudley nodded. He was already getting hard. He tried not to think too much about what that might mean. "Hang on." He leaned over and reached into the flower shop bag in which he'd hidden the lingerie. He brought out a pair of little round glasses and handed them to Piers. "Put those on."

"I don't need glasses."

"They not prescription, just put them on!"

With a shrug, Piers took them and put them on. He glanced around his room, frowning and scrunching up his pointed nose. "They pinch."

"Tough. Okay, you can, er, get undressed."

Looking awkward, Piers began to disrobe. He pulled off his t-shirt to reveal the rich red, lacy bra he was wearing over his hairless chest. The lace was just a little bit see-through. Dudley squinted, trying to see if he could see Piers's nipples.

"Enjoying yourself, then?" snapped Piers.

"I was... just... Shut up."

"Bit big, innit?" Piers pulled lightly at one of the small cups, which he didn't quite fill out.

"Well, it's the smallest size they had. Just stop talking, all right?"

Piers continued undressing in silence, unceremoniously getting out of his jeans and the boxers he'd had on over top of the little knickers. He stood there in the lingerie with his hairy legs and his white gym socks, not meeting Dudley's eyes. If he'd been looking at Dudley, he would have seen that Dudley was staring right at his lace-covered crotch. The little panties barely held him. They were all stretched out, and gaps at the legs provided a nice peek inside at the corners.

"Turn round," instructed Dudley. Piers rolled his eyes and began to turn, fully displaying his skinny frame.

"Slower!"

"Okay! Sheesh!"

"Now stop. Stay there a minute."

Piers stopped with his back to Dudley. It was a g-string Dudley had gotten him, and his bare cheeks were nicely displayed.

"Should've made you shave," muttered Dudley.

"Oh, no way would I have done that!" Piers said over his shoulder.

"I said don't talk!… Bend over."

Dudley heard Piers sigh, but he obediently bent over.

"Open your legs a bit."

Piers did so without a word. Dudley slid a bit closer to the end of the bed where Piers was standing to have a better look. Piers's balls were practically falling out. His cheeks parted slightly when he bent over and Dudley could now see the red string nestled between them. Dudley could just see Harry looking over his shoulder at him while he wiggled his bottom invitingly.

Dudley let Piers stand up again. He straightened up and turned back to face Dudley, who didn't say a word, but simply stared up at Piers with his mouth hanging open. He let his eyes travel down Piers's narrow body to his crotch where a full erection had bloomed. Dudley met his eyes again. Piers was staring down at him through his fake glasses, his dark hair in his eyes, looking uncannily like Harry. Or like Harry's scrawnier, less attractive brother.

"Do you want me to talk like him too?" asked Piers.

Dudley blinked at him. "What?"

"You know. Like Harry."

Dudley's heart began a quick, nervous pattering. "What are you on about? I don't want you to be Harry."

"Well, okay. I just thought... 'cause of the glasses –"

"Shut up! Don't talk about him, you'll make me go soft!"

"Sorry."

Dudley looked away from him, crossed his arms and wondered when Piers had gotten so damn smart. Dudley was beginning to think this had been a huge mistake. He had no idea how to proceed. Should they simply do what they'd always done and wank together? But then what was the point of having Piers in this ridiculous getup? Dudley glanced at Piers sidelong, who was fidgeting where he stood. Dudley's eyes landed squarely on the dark treasure trail on Piers's otherwise smooth, pale belly. Harry in his red boxers sprung to mind. Harry in a red bikini draped over a car, begging for Dudley's cock.

 _Right. That was the point,_ Dudley thought. He quickly looked away as his crotch tugged at him.

"Well," Piers began hesitantly, "m-maybe I was right, you know. Maybe you are a... a pig."

Dudley frowned up at him. "What?"

"Maybe I had a point when I called you that," Piers stammered, wringing his hands and watching Dudley warily. "And, uh..." Piers's eyes darted as he searched for words. "And... you're dumb too." He took a step back and continued watching Dudley for a response.

Dudley stood up and stepped toward Piers, bewildered and annoyed. "What's the matter with you now?"

"Well, if you c-can't figure that out, then you must be... really stupid or... something," said Piers, backing up a bit more.

Dudley cocked his head, watching him closely. "You'd better stop that right now," he warned.

"Or what?" asked Piers, backing up into a wall, but seeming to find a bit of confidence, his voice sounding less uncertain. "You'll sit on me?"

Dudley stepped right up to him, his face inches from Piers's. "You're trying to make me angry."

"Oh, finally worked that out, have you?"

Piers sounded familiar. Not like himself. Like someone else Dudley knew. _Harry_.

"I told you not to act like him," Dudley said, his heart racing.

"I'm sorry, I, er, didn't quite catch that. 'Cause I speak English, right? I don't speak –"

"Pig," Dudley said for him, just barely whispering the word, staring right into Piers's eyes. Piers stood there, silent, mashed against the wall before Dudley, waiting to see what would happen.

Even Dudley didn't know what he was going to do until he did it. What he did was grab Piers by the arm hard, wrench him away from the wall, turn him sideways and whack him hard on the bottom with the palm of his hand.

"OW!" Piers cried, and he looked over at Dudley with a wide-eyed look of shock. Dudley was breathing hard through his nose and glaring at him.

"Shut – UP!" Dudley ordered, and he began spanking Piers as hard as he could, over and over and over. The sharp _thwacking_ sound of his hand on Piers's arse filled the room. Piers grunted out his pain and flinched at each impact, but Dudley noticed that he wasn't trying to get away. Even if he had been trying, Dudley wasn't sure he'd have stopped. Something about this was extremely satisfying, and after a while it seemed that Piers agreed; his noises began to sound softer, breathier, and he wasn't flinching quite so much anymore.

Dudley's hand began to sting, but he didn't stop, and Piers's left cheek was soon thoroughly reddened. Dudley moved onto the right cheek, beating it mercilessly, and Piers just took it. If Dudley wasn't mistaken, Piers's stance had changed. He had actually leaned forward and stuck his bottom out a bit, pushing it into the assault. Dudley looked at his profile; Piers's eyes were closed, his mouth hung open and he was panting.

"Call me a pig, will you?" Dudley growled. "Go around the house like you own it. Then have the nerve to _save my life_?" He finally stopped spanking Piers, took him by both his shoulders and shook him and snarled, "Who do you think you are?"

Piers's gaze was all soft and hot. "I-I'm Harry," he whispered, trembling in Dudley's hands. "And I-I'm sorry for everything I've done. I'm... I'm bad and I deserve to be punished."

"Damn right, you do," said Dudley, shaking Piers a little more.

"I know I do. And I want to make it up to you."

"How? You've made my life miserable for sixteen years! What could you possibly do to make it right?"

"Well, er... you said I s-saved your life?" asked Piers. His confusion about this was evident on his face.

"Yeah, so? That just changed everything, didn't it? That just bloody-well confused everything! I had you pegged as a loser and a waste of space, and then you go and do something like that? What the hell am I supposed to think now, eh? Dammit!" Dudley pushed Piers away from him in anger. Piers stumbled backwards, back against the wall. Dudley stood there staring at the floor, teeth clenched, nostrils flaring.

"W-what would you like to do to me, then?" Piers asked quietly.

Dudley's jaw muscles twitched. "I don't know," he said quietly. "I can't stop thinking about you. AND –" Dudley looked up at Piers and pointed a finger at him. "You walking around in your underpants doesn't help matters!"

"I'm sorry." Piers stepped cautiously toward Dudley and repeated, "What do you want to do to me?"

Dudley stared at him in silence for a moment. Finally he replied, "I want to fuck you." Saying it out loud seemed to surprise even Dudley. He staggered backward, back toward the bed, and dropped down onto it, staring, slack-jawed, at nothing. "Oh, my god," he whispered to himself.

"But you already knew that, didn't you?" Piers said, taking more cautious steps toward him. "You said you've been thinking about him a lot."

Dudley supposed he'd been in denial. He looked at Piers again as Piers began to wriggle out of the bra. He reached back to unhook it and then slipped it off.

"What do you think you're doing?" Dudley demanded, but there was no conviction behind his voice.

"What's it look like?" said Piers as he stepped out of the panties. He stood there before Dudley completely naked except for his socks and the fake glasses. He stared down at Dudley, his eyes less hot, but still so much softer than they normally were.

"I'll let you fuck me," he said softly.

Dudley winced and looked away. "Stop it! I'm not gay, you know." But the prospect of having actual sex was more than a little intriguing. Dudley was still a virgin, and he knew for damn sure Piers was too. Of course, the prospect of having actual sex was also completely terrifying.

Piers approached and sat next to him. "I won't tell anyone. You can pretend I'm him."

Well, that was that. Piers wanted this. He'd tried to goad Dudley with insults he thought Harry would use to see what Dudley would do, to see if he'd take the bait. He'd realised Dudley had a thing for Harry, but _when_ had he realised? Dudley had only just realised it himself.

Dudley looked down at Piers's body. Piers was still hard, and now there was nothing covering him, he was right out there in the open for Dudley to see and he didn't seem to mind if Dudley looked.

Piers leaned closer and brought their lips together. Dudley had plenty of time to pull his face out of the way, but he was too shocked to move. He sucked in a breath through his nose and shut his eyes. His mind was screaming _No kissing! NO KISSING!_ , but he let Piers kiss him anyway because his body was screaming something very different.

The kiss was wet and sloppy, very badly executed, neither of them having ever kissed anyone before, but neither of them seemed to care as the kiss became deeper and hungrier, Dudley's inexperienced tongue gingerly poking into Piers's mouth. As Dudley's arousal increased, he began to feel less uncertain and he took Piers by his waist and began nudging him back on the bed. Piers went without hesitation, scooting back and instantly spreading his legs. Dudley crawled after him, hovering over him, hastily unfastening his jeans and taking himself out. They kissed the entire time, Piers opening his mouth wide and just letting Dudley lick inside his mouth and suck his lips.

Dudley finally touched Piers's cock. As he touched his own, the backs of his fingers grazed Piers's shaft and Piers immediately pushed up against that little bit of pressure. Dudley let go of himself and began to feel Piers instead. He touched the head and rubbed the slit, playing with the little bead of pre-come there. Piers's cock felt good in his hand, not like his own, thinner and longer than his own, and warm and smooth and wonderfully hard. Piers began to breathe harder and make little noises, responding to Dudley's touch. They were the most exciting noises Dudley had ever heard.

By the time they began rubbing their dicks together, they were both panting and clawing at each other. Piers's glasses were sent askew as Dudley's large hand swept upwards to stroke Piers's hair. Piers's skinny arms wrapped around Dudley's bulky frame and pulled frantically at his shirt, finally just holding onto it like some bizarre, upside-down horse-back rider gripping the reigns, straddling Dudley from underneath while Dudley rode him.

Dudley released Piers's mouth just so he could watch Piers writhing underneath him. Piers kept his eyes closed, so Dudley didn't feel weird watching at him. If Dudley squinted, Piers could've been Harry with those glasses on and that messy dark hair. He could've been the Harry from Dudley's fantasies the way his pink mouth hung open, panting and moaning, the way his skin was flushed, the way, when he finally opened his eyes, Dudley could imagine they were green if he tried.

But all this took effort on Dudley's part. Even with the glasses, Piers was just Piers, not an imaginary Harry, and Dudley had to admit he didn't mind much. He was no longer working out his weird Harry fantasies with Piers. No, now he was just humping his friend and enjoying it. And that was definitely gay.

"Say something to me," Dudley breathed. "Call me something."

"You _pig_ ," Piers responded.

Dudley closed his eyes and concentrated. "Say it again," he demanded.

"Ungh!" Piers grunted as Dudley humped him faster. "You fat fuck," he groaned, and he went on to call Dudley every synonym for "overweight" there was. As long as Dudley kept his eyes closed, it was Harry he was frotting against.

"Yes," Dudley grunted. "Yes, Harry." Dudley tensed up and his orgasm flooded his body. He buried his face in Piers's neck to muffle his own noises. "Harry. Oh, god, Harry."

Piers wasn't far behind. Dudley felt his friend's body shudder and soon Piers's come mixed with Dudley's on Piers's belly.

"Dudley," Piers groaned. Dudley felt Piers's tongue licking his neck and he arched his neck to give Piers more room. He gripped Piers's hair in his fist and tried to imagine it was Harry licking him and coming all over his own belly underneath him, but when Dudley opened his mouth to moan his Harry's name, the name that he whispered was Piers's.

The post-orgasm regret began to creep into Dudley's brain as soon as the pleasure began to fade. He was spurting out the last bit of come when he began to wonder, _What the hell are we going to do now?_

Dudley had come down completely while Piers's last shudders came and went, his voice coming out in hard little grunts, and then weak groans as his body relaxed. For a while Dudley didn't move, couldn't face Piers. But finally he pushed up and rolled off Piers, onto his back, and stared at the ceiling.

"Why was it so easy to get you to agree this?" Dudley asked, still breathing hard.

"What? We always used to wank together."

"This is different and you know it," said Dudley, forgetting his embarrassment and looking over at Piers. Piers was staring straight upwards. "The knickers? The bra? You wanted to wear those."

Piers shrugged. "You bullied me into it, remember?"

"No." Dudley sat up. "It was too easy." Dudley was about to continue, to accuse Piers of liking it too much and therefore being responsible for what had just happened. He quickly shut his mouth, however, deciding that wasn't the smartest course of action considering how much he, Dudley, had appeared to enjoy it too. Piers slowly looked over at him and seemed to be thinking the same thing he was.

Piers raised a hand toward Dudley, looking into his eyes. "No telling," he said solemnly.

Dudley looked from Piers's eyes to his hand, then back again. Finally, he grasped Piers's hand and shook it. "No telling," he echoed.

They nodded at each other, and then Dudley helped Piers sit up by giving his hand a yank and they both went about cleaning themselves up.

"Er... Piers?" said Dudley, not looking at him.

"Yes?"

"Were you serious when you said... that I could... that we could..."

"Fuck?" Piers said rather bluntly.

Dudley swallowed. "Yeah."

Dudley heard Piers sigh. "Yeah. I guess I was. You've written me off as a complete puffter now, I suppose."

Dudley decided not to reply that. There was no safe reply to that. Piers seemed to take Dudley's silence as a "no". Or perhaps a not-in-a-bad-way "yes".

"Well," Piers said nonchalantly, "maybe next time."

Dudley looked slowly over at Piers, hardly believing what he'd just heard. Piers had taken the glasses off and was watching him. They looked away from each other at the same time. _Next time,_ Dudley repeated in his head. His lower belly tingled pleasantly at the thought.

"What're you going to do about Harry?" asked Piers as he wiped come off himself with a tissue.

"What? Nothing. What am I supposed to do?"

"Well, maybe you could talk to him or –"

"Or what?" Dudley asked, frowning at him. "Are you mental? I can't tell him about... any of this! He'd laugh. He'd torture me with it for the rest of my life."

"Well... maybe you could just be nicer to him. Ever thought of that?"

Dudley snorted. He _had_ thought of that. He'd been trying, in fact, to do nice things for Harry in secret, but every time they actually spoke to each other, Dudley would fall right back into his old habit of being an arse to Harry. He couldn't stop, it was like a reflex.

"Maybe," Dudley mumbled, fastening his jeans.

Piers went over to the clothes he'd left on the floor and began to dress. "What about these?" he asked, nudging the lingerie at Dudley with his toe. "What are you going to do with those?"

"Dunno."

"Your mum might find them."

Dudley shook his head. "I'll hide them."

"You could leave them here," Piers said casually, shrugging. "My parents never search my room."

Dudley eyed Piers suspiciously. "Do you _want_ to keep them?"

"I dunno," said Piers, not meeting Dudley's eyes. "I just thought it might be better for you to not have them in the house, that's all. You can take them if you want them so bad."

"No, no, you're right," Dudley said quickly. "They should stay here. It's safer. I won't need them again anyway."

"Well, neither will I," said Piers, finally looking at Dudley. They stared at each other for an awkward moment, and then finally looked away, fidgeting and shoving their hands in their pockets.

"I've got to go," Dudley muttered and he headed for the door, but Piers followed and stopped him before he could unlock it.

"Hang on," Piers said, pulling a hand out of his pocket and holding the glasses out to Dudley. "Did you want these?"

Dudley reached out and took them, stared at them for a moment. He shook his head and said, "Nah. You can just chuck them. We won't need them again." He blushed as he handed them back. "I mean, _I_ won't need them again."

"Right." Piers nodded as he took them. "I'll just get rid of them then. So, um, good luck. With Harry, I mean."

"I'm not going to do anything," Dudley insisted with a frown. Piers nodded, but Dudley wasn't sure Piers believed him. "Anyway, I guess I'll see you."

"Yeah," said Piers. He stared at Dudley hesitantly for a moment and then, without warning, he leaned in and planted a little kiss on Dudley's mouth. When he pulled back, he looked worried and he searched Dudley's eyes.

Dudley just blinked at him, dumbfounded, his cheeks turning pink. But then a smile touched his lips. "Puffter," he said.

Piers smiled too, relieved. "Bye, D," he said quietly.

"I'll call you," Dudley mumbled shyly and, still blushing, he unlocked the door and left.

 

* * *

This time Harry heard Dudley outside his bedroom. Something banged against his door, something clattered, and Harry heard Dudley swear. It was early in the morning and Harry squinted at the grey morning light coming in through his window. Harry scrambled to find his glasses. He jammed them onto his face and hurried to the door.

"Ah-HA!" he cried when he pulled the door open and found Dudley kneeling on the floor mopping up spilled tea with his shirt. Dudley looked up at him in shock and then scrambled to his feet.

"And what's this?" asked Harry. "Why have you been booby-trapping the front of my door, eh? What're you playing at?"

"Nothing! I just..." Dudley shook his head and looked down. He shuffled his feet and made frustrated little noises.

"Words, Dudley. Use your words."

Dudley scowled at him. "Shut up! GOD, try to do something nice..." At that, Dudley thrust something wrapped in paper towel at Harry and stalked off, leaving the puddle of tea and the tea cup there on the floor.

"Oi! You're going to clean this up, you know!" Harry called, but Dudley ignored him, went into his own room and slammed the door.

"What is all the noise about?" shrieked Aunt Petunia as she stomped up the stairs carrying the cordless phone. Her eyes landed on Harry and the spilled tea and she frowned intensely. "You're going to clean that up, you know!"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, I know," he sighed as he turned away and headed to the bathroom for some tissues.

"Hang on! Take this. It's for _you_." Aunt Petunia held the phone out to Harry as though she was handing him something particularly nasty she'd found in the street. "Go on, take it!"

Harry took it from her and then watched her hurry away, back downstairs.

"Hey, Ron," Harry said into the receiver.

"Morning, Harry!" said Ron cheerfully. "How'd you know it was me?"

"Who else would it be? Why are you calling so early? And why are you calling at all? I told you it was best if I called you, remember?"

"Nah, couldn't wait. I've got good news."

"Yeah?" said Harry hopefully, going into his room and shutting the door. "What, am I getting out of here sooner than expected?"

"What? Oh, no, er, not that. It's Mandy. She smiled at me!"

Harry could just see the huge grin that must've been on his best friend's face. Harry's face looked entirely different.

"What?"

"Mandy! I don't think she hates me! Isn't that fantastic?"

"You're joking. This is what you called about?"

"This is huge, Harry! Listen, I've been reading this book –"

" _You've_ been reading a book?"

"Yeah, it's called _Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches_. I've been trying out some of the things it suggests, you know, like showing an interest in her interests –"

"– and like not being a complete arse to her?"

"Yeah, that too. So, I Flooed her yesterday and I asked her a bunch of questions about herself, you know, acted really interested, and guess what!"

"You pulled her hair and ran away?"

"No! She invited me over for tea. Ha! Can you believe that, Harry? All this rubbish actually works!"

"Well, I'll be damned."

"Now, to get Mum to actually let me leave the house so I can see Mandy. Mum's convinced that every time one of us goes outside, we're not coming back. If I can sneak out, maybe I'll bring Mandy a little present or something."

"You're hopeless, you know that?"

"Hey, how's the Dudley Situation?"

Harry sighed, pacing around his room, still holding the small paper-towel package Dudley had given him. "Infuriating. I don't know what his problem is. This morning I find him cleaning up tea that he spilled at my bedroom door."

"He was cleaning it up? Why was he cleaning it up?"

"Because he spilled it, Ron. Try and keep up, will you?"

"No, I mean... if it was another trap he was setting for you, even if he hadn't meant to spill it, leaving a big mess there would've done just fine, wouldn't it? I mean what difference does it makes it the tea is in the cup or on the floor? You're stepping in it either way, aren't you? And who leaves tea as a booby trap, anyway?"

"Dudley Dumbarse Dursley, that's who," Harry grumbled. "And then he gives me whatever the hell this is." He looked at the ball of paper towel he was still holding. "It's small and round and all wrapped in paper towel."

"He gave you a present?" asked Ron, smiling.

"It's not a present."

"Why not? Because it's wrapped in paper towel? It's still _wrapped_ , isn't it?"

Harry frowned at the ball. "That does sound like Dudley's idea of wrapping paper, doesn't it?"

"Harry, you know, I think you should reconsider the Dudley-has-a-crush-on-you theory."

"Oh, come on."

"Look at the facts! He's leaving you food outside your door, giving you things, being a right arse to you. Harry, he's been doing the equivalent of pulling your hair and running away since you were kids!"

"No, you're wrong and I can prove it. I don't think Dudley bought anything from the flower shop. I went snooping and found a receipt... from a _lingerie store_. I think he was just hiding what he bought in the flower shop bag so we wouldn't know what it was."

"No way! He bought you lingerie?" Ron snickered.

"Ron, be serious!" Harry snapped as he finally began unwrapping the paper towel ball. "He obviously bought it for some girl. I guess my Piers theory was wrong."

"Yeah, well, I'm sticking with my _you_ theory."

"You do that." Harry sat on his bed and held the phone between his cheek and his shoulder so he could use both his hands. "Let's see what this thing is now."

"Opening his present?"

"It's not a present! What I don't get is why he'd be buying lingerie for anybody? No way there's any girl out there desperate enough to date him. You don't buy lingerie for someone you're not already with." Harry finally got the the little package open and just stared down at what he found. "Oh, my god."

"What?" asked Ron eagerly. "What'd he get you? A ring? It's a ring, isn't it?"

Harry picked up the blueberry scone and just stared at it, his mouth hanging open. He tore it in half and checked for anything disgusting that Dudley might have hidden inside it, but there was nothing. He sniffed at it. It smelled fine. Finally, very cautiously, he nibbled a bit of it. It tasted perfectly okay. Fresh too. Aunt Petunia must've just made them that morning.

"Oh, my god," Harry repeated.

"What is it, Harry?" Ron asked more urgently.

Harry stared across the room at nothing and absently took another bite of the scone. His mind went racing through the last few days; Dudley's behaviour, the strange looks, all the little things he'd been leaving at Harry's door, cleaning up the tea. He thought about Ron and Mandy and how Ron had been such a jerk to her in some bizarre attempt to show how much he liked her.

No. That wasn't what Dudley was doing. Was it?

He took another bite, barely noticing that he was. "Ron?"

"Yes, Harry, what is it?"

Harry swallowed. "I think Dudley's got a crush on me."

END


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